Rebels of the Revolution
by Akira Gown
Summary: “Saiyans have no king; Saiyans need no king.” The heir to the throne returned long from exile – a choice he made long ago. He took the throne, and within months, rumors of a rebellion emerged. The entire planet turned against him… all except on
1. Chapter I

"Rebels of the Revolution"

**By Akira**

**Summary:  **"Saiyans have no king; Saiyans need no king."  The heir to the throne returned long from exile – a choice he made long ago.  He took the throne, and within months, rumors of a rebellion emerged.  The entire planet turned against him… all except one girl.

Prologue 

_Long ago in the era of the mighty Saiya-jins on a planet far away…_

At the highest point in Saiya-jin history, King Vegeta and his advisors throught it best to send his only male heir – no, it was not conceived by Queen Milawikl, but rather, by a visiting earthling by the name of Bulma – to the Nameks.  It had been for their safety.  The King had thought it for the best, for rumors spoke of a war possibly killing out the race of the mighty Saiya-jin.  Five weeks after mother and son left the Saiya-jin planet of Vegeta-sei, King Vegeta was murdered – betrayed by his own advisors.

Vegeta-sei was left in turmoil for a decade before peace was bought back around by a squad captain, Son Goku.  He could not be pronounced king, for he carried naught the royal blood in his veins.  He was proclaimed Steward of Vegeta-sei.  He did not sit upon the throne of the old and ancient kings, but rather, a throne was built for him on a lower level.

As old age and disease slowly robbed Son Goku of his youthful vigor and life, he passed his Stewardship over to his son, Son Gohan.  Long peaceful years ensued on Vegeta-sei until a new rebellion stirred again.

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Once upon Namek, Bulma and her babe were treated royally.  Two months after their arrival, Bulma passed away despite the love she received from the Nameks and the joy she received from her child.  The pains from her bond slowly wasted her away.  As a creature cannot survive without air, she could not survive without Vegeta… despite all the other women.

And so, the babe grew up on Namek, without a father, without a mother, but with a name, Trunks, and an awareness instilled in him by the Nameks of the royal blood pulsing in his veins.

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

He expected allegiance.  He expected loyalty.  He expected open arms.  He expected the throne.

He received no allegiance.  He received no loyalty.  There were no open arms greeting him.  He got the throne… but more than he bargained for… he got a rebellion.

_…a rebellion shook the face of the universe…._

**End Prologue**

**A/N:**  So… how was it?  I know I haven't updated "Forbidden" in a long time, but no worries, it will be up soon!  As always, review!  Or… no chapter 1!


	2. Chapter II

"Rebels of the Revolution"

**By Akira**

**Summary:  **"Saiyans have no king; Saiyans need no king."  The heir to the throne returned long from exile – a choice he made long ago.  He took the throne, and within months, rumors of a rebellion emerged.  The entire planet turned against him… all except one girl.

**Thanks **go out to… Tonz82, Emyloostrange a.k.a. Emi(ko), and t/ptears… for reviewing!

Chapter I 

"There is no fear…" 

He could've returned when he turned eighteen.  That was mentioned very often in his conversations with Maharishi.  He could've… he should've… he would've… but he was scared.  Scared of the throne, scared of Saiya-jins, and definitely scared of rejection.  He had never been rejected his entire life… but then, he was never quite accepted either.  He was always… **_different._**

It took him twelve years to muster his courage.  The twelve years of persuasion from the Nameks and Maharishi had finally worked.  He was leaving… leaving his **_home_**.  Would he ever be back?

Saiya-jins were ferocious, aggressive, and definitely **_not_** peace loving like the Nameks.  After faring with peace and Nameks for so long, how would he survive with Saiya-jins?

But it was not in the Saiya-jins particularly that made him shudder with fear.  It was in the Saiya-jin **_women _**in that fear held sway over him.  The Nameks were asexual and had no apparent sex… but Saiya-jins were different.  He had yet learned the difference between love and lust.  I fhe were to mark a girl during mating season out of lust, his Saiya-jin pride would be shattered.  The morals the Nameks had drilled into him would have been of waste.

What of the throne?  Would he be able to handle the responsibility?  Would he make a fool of himself?  How would his subjects react to him?  Did they have another king/  or were they awaiting his arrival?  The Nameks had sent word to Vegeta-sei that he was arriving… but how would he be accepted?

The soft thrumming of the space pod soon lulled him into slumber.  His zealous, yet calm, reverie lay at last at rest among the stars.  All things come to an end one day… perhaps his fear would also.

_"…except fear itself…."_

End Chapter I 

 **A/N:**  That was Chapter I.  Hope you guys enjoyed it.  As always, review!  Hopefully, a chapter of "Forbidden" will be making its way onto this site tonight.__


	3. Chapter III

"Rebels of the Revolution"

**By Akira**

**Summary: **"Saiyans have no king; Saiyans need no king." The heir to the throne returned long from exile – a choice he made long ago. He took the throne, and within months, rumors of a rebellion emerged. The entire planet turned against him… all except one girl.

**Thanks **go out to… t/ptears, Kutie-Pan, Parron / Maruta-chan, chibigoten124/SSJ3MysticPan, Videl17, and Juuanagou4ever (x2)… for reviewing!

Chapter II 

Trunks braced himself for landing impact.  As his round space pod bounced in the landing-circle, inner war raged within his conscience.  Royal guards marched out to his pod.  They opened the door and immediately knelt, one knee bended, one hand over the heart.

Trunks stepped out of the pod.  The planet was bare as far as the eye could see.  No more lush forests of Namek; no more peaceful brooks and streams.  Before him was now a barren wasteland of a planet.  Brown.  Red.  Obviously, the Saiya-jin held no respect for the beauty of nature.  Maybe they had never been given the chance.  Some things were definitely going to change once he got into office. 

By now, the guards had gotten back on their feet.  "This way, my king," one of the guards said, turning with a swish of his red cloak.

_"…And now… the fun begins…"_

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Trunks stepped into the Great Hall.  Walls of grey stones surrounded him, immersing him in the bright illumination provided by the large windows.  A long red carpet, which extended under his feet, led up a golden throne, placed in the middle of the raised platform.  The platform upon which this golden throne stood was raised upon a semicircle of stairs.  As Trunks approached, a man with striking turquoise eyes and black hair rose from his black throne at the foot of the stairs.  He inclined his head slightly, "King Trunks… this meeting is certainly an honor."

Trunks was puzzled as to why this man did not kneel as all the others did… but nonetheless he inclined his head in response.  "And you are…" Trunks inquired softly.

"Oh, your majesty!  Excuse my imprudent manner!  I am Son Gohan, Steward of Vegeta-sei… loyal servant of the Crown," the black-haired man had replied in his educated voice.  A barely noticeable hint of sarcasm was present in his voice.

Trunks nodded, keeping his voice to himself.  The Nameks had taught youngsters to control themselves and not interrupt when an elder was speaking.  Though this man in front of him did not look much older than himself, Trunks thought it was best to let him speak.

"Would you like me to give you a tour of the palace and its grounds, your majesty?" a tiny voice called out from behind the stone column.

Gohan's head snapped at the sound of the voice.  Trunks turned, curious as to who would speak to him without showing their face first.  What he saw was a mere girl.  She was dressed in pale blue silk, indicating she was of noble, if not royal, blood.  Her raven colored hair was done up in an elaborate manner – clearly she had known she was to be talking to the king.

Gohan and Trunks both opened their mouths, but Gohan managed to speak first.  "Pan!  What are you doing here?" he hissed just loud enough for the three of them to hear, but not the guards.

"Mother told me to come get you.  Dinner's nearly ready," the girl said.  Her eyes were as hard as onyx as they bore into the turquoise colored ones across the hall.

Remembering the girl's original question, Trunks cleared his voice.  "I'd love a tour of the palace and its grounds."

Gohan's head snapped again at the use of the word "love".  As Trunks would grow to know, "love" was definitely a word that was not casually used on Vegeta-sei.  "No, it's alright, honey," he said to Pan.  "I'll show his majesty around."

"Yes, father," Pan dipped into a curtsey and walked out as quietly as she had come in.

"Would you like to join my family and I for dinner tonight, your majesty?"  Gohan asked, and then hurriedly added, "I'll show you the palace and the grounds afterward."

"Thank you for inviting me, Gohan, Steward of Vegeta-sei.  I shall be much obliged to join you for dinner," Trunks said as politely as he could muster.  The tension in the hall was running as high as the stars.  Somehow, the other man didn't make him feel as comfortable as he should've been.  

"Well, let's go, shall we?  This way, your majesty."

End Chapter II 

**A/N:** That was Chapter II. Hope you guys enjoyed it. Just for future reference, no, Pan will not be this "girly" all the way through.  You'll just have to wait and see what I put her through… *laughs evilly*  Review, or this shall become quite a nasty story….  MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!


	4. Chapter IV

**"Rebels of the Revolution"**

**By Akira**

**Summary: **"Saiyans have no king; Saiyans need no king." The heir to the throne returned long from exile – a choice he made long ago. He took the throne, and within months, rumors of a rebellion emerged. The entire planet turned against him… all except one girl.

**Thanks **go out to…Videl17 (I'm writing as fast as I can!  2 chapters in two days!  That's **_good_**!), Kutie-Pan, Butterfly Monkey Babe of, Hanamaru285 (I have yet to figure out their ages… I put a **_lot_** of thought into it….), and chibigoten124/SSJ3MysticPan… for reviewing!

**Chapter III**

"Thank you," Trunks said to Videl, Gohan's earthling wife, as she gathered the plates off the wooden table.

"No problem, your majesty," Videl replied, giving him a smile, which extended to her eyes.  "It's nice to finally have someone appreciate my cooking for once.  All these two ever do is gobble it up without a word of thanks," Videl added, mock glaring at her husband and daughter.

Gohan stood up abruptly without meeting his wife's eyes.  "Let us go to the grounds, shall we?"

Trunks stood up along with Gohan.  "My compliments to your cooking, Lady.  I hope to be able to dine with your family again soon.  Let us proceed."

Pan rose out of her seat to stand by her mother.  Both curtsied as the King and Steward of Vegeta-sei acknowledged them and walked out the door.  Two minutes later as the King and Steward came to the end of the hall, both heard a terrible crash from the door they had just exited out of.

Trunks was worried… there weren't a lot of times when crashes like that exploded.  Gohan sensed his worry and replied to his unspoken question, "My daughter doesn't like to be forced into dresses and quiet mannerisms."  He smiled wryly.  That was the understatement of the year.

Trunks laughed hesitantly.  It was true that while Pan looked very graceful and elegant in her dresses, she didn't look exactly all that happy.  Women were strange….

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

"Common training grounds, your majesty," Gohan raised his voice amid the din of screaming male voices.  He nodded towards his left to a flat field of dirt and instead of wooden fences surrounding it, the strongest wrought steel bars served as a fence.  

Trunks raised an eyebrow as he watched two men charge at each other.  One wore a white band across his forehead as Gohan did.  It clearly indicated something.  He would ask later.  Right now, a crowd had gathered to watch the fight between the two grown saiyans.  This was surely a change from the firm, but harmless, training he had received from the Nameks.

"Space launchers, your majesty," Gohan said a while later as they neared the place where Trunks had first landed.  He drew Trunks's attention to large seemingly craters in the ground.  "Space pod goes in; space pod bursts out," Gohan said as a space pod did just that.

"Space landing pads," Gohan indicated towards the round cushion-like stuff Trunks had landed on.  

And they continued on.

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Gohan knew a great deal about the history of the rooms of the palaces and the monarchs of old times.  He seemed to know even more about Trunks's father than Trunks himself.  It was when they were staring at the pictures of old kings and their queens when Gohan finally loosened a bit.  He seemed to find pleasure in describing the pictures and the people in them.

When they moved away from a picture of King Vegeta I, Trunks voiced a question, "Why do you wear a white band around your head, Gohan, Steward of Vegeta-sei?"

"It is a sign, your majesty.  To receive the white band around one's head is an honor greatly admired here, your lordship.  It is the sign of a **_warrior_**.  It takes **_years_** of training to gain such a gift.  Of course, your majesty, the best warriors of the planet join and become the Elite.  Once they are Elite, they receive the golden trim around their red cloaks and a gold badge.  The Elite are the best of the best of the universe, your majesty.  It is an honor to die for," Gohan ended, his voice nearly monotonous.  

Trunks nodded, absorbing all the information.  It was all fascinating.  Who would have thought that so ingenious of a rank system could be thought up of in such a barbaric planet?  He shook his head.  _'You will soon be ruling this so-called "barbaric" planet… wait, you **are** ruling it.'_  

"Shall we proceed, your majesty?" Gohan asked, his voice with the strained emphasis it had contained all during the tour.

Trunks nodded, following his lead.  From the portrait room, they went to the mess hall, tactics rooms, foreign residencies, and such until they winded back at the Great Hall.  "Your chambers are down this corridor, three doors to the left," Gohan informed him.  Looking back at the Great Hall guards, he asked in his slightly strained and educated voice, "A word, your majesty?"

"Surely, Gohan, Steward of Vegeta-sei," Trunks replied, walking back to the unoccupied corner of the room.  

"My King, I am letting you know that I am a loyal servant to the Crown and to you, sire, and I shall do all that is in my ability to defend it and its people, **_but_** long has these people toiled and worked this soil without a king, and they have proven themselves worthy of this race.  A fiercer and more loyal group could not be found in the universe, and they have banded together despite missing a monarch.  The Saiya-jins have shown that they need no king, and surely, if enough of the band together against you, you will be overthrown.  I am a loyal supporter of the Crown, but more importantly, I am a representative of the people.  Over the years, I have won their support and their love, and I will work to seeing their view being made to the public eye.  If they so chose to overthrow you, I will not hesitate to help them," Gohan said, making his point clear.  His turquoise eyes were blazing; he meant what he was saying.  "Good night, my King.  Rest well.  Tomorrow's dawn brings a new chapter into our lives and history."

**End Chapter III**

**A/N:**  We are now experiencing a split personality in Gohan… please stand by due to technical difficulties or you may volunteer your assistance by reviewing.  


	5. Chapter V

**"Rebels of the Revolution"**

**By Akira**

**Summary: **"Saiyans have no king; Saiyans need no king." The heir to the throne returned long from exile – a choice he made long ago. He took the throne, and within months, rumors of a rebellion emerged. The entire planet turned against him… all except one girl.

**Thanks **go out to… Videl17, Kutie-Pan, Butterfly Monkey Babe of, Jezika, and chibigoten124/SSJ3MysticPan… for reviewing!

**Chapter IV**

Over the next week, Trunks was inaugurated as king.  He met a foreign ambassador from the Chiki-yuu race and fortified the Saiya-jin alliance with him.  Along with taking Saiya-jin law and history lessons from Lord Gohan, Steward of Vegeta-sei, his relationship with the Steward continued steadily downward.  For some reason unbeknownst to Trunks, every time Gohan looked at him, a strange glint reflected in those turquoise eyes, and every time Gohan talked to him, a hint of steel was present in the tone.

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Within the next seven days, Trunks had eaten five meals in Gohan's residency with Videl and Pan.  Videl grew more and more attached to the young king, which might also add to the Steward's dislike towards the king.  Pan, on the other hand, remained quiet and aloof during the young king's visits.  She seldom spoke directly to the king, but rather, spoke only when addressed to.  To Trunks, this only added to the luring enigma and mystery surrounding the young girl.

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

"My King?" a voice blurted out behind him one day as Trunks was leaving Gohan's residency, heading back to his own chambers.

Trunks turned, his azure eyes shining.  He had been wondering for a very long time if the only daughter of Gohan could talk on her own.  "Yes, Pan of Vegeta-sei, daughter of Gohan?"  

She winced.  She hated being referred to as the daughter of her father.  It was as if all her reputation and dignity lied within her father.  "May I walk with you?" she asked, chiding herself at the bluntness of her voice.  In her determination not to stumble on her words, she had blurted out the question – making herself, in her opinion, rather forward.

Trunks wondered why she winced.  The Nameks had taught him from a very young age that people should be respected and honored at least to the point of naming their full title when addressing them.  It mystified him as to why she even approached him.  The Nameks always knew every other Namek, but just within the seven days he had set foot on Vegeta-sei, he knew that Saiya-jins never approached someone of a higher rank… and it was nearly a crime to associate with someone out of your "social status"; therefore, the unwritten but obeyed laws of status and rank in the Saiya-jin society forbade him to talk to even his own people.  He just wasn't use to women, he convinced himself.  Realizing he had been staring at her face the entire time, he had the grace to blush, nod slightly, and respond, "Sure."

Pan bent her head; it was unusual she ever received attention from the male species… unless it was something humiliating or embarrassing.  She was the first girl to try for warrior status in written history.  All the attention she ever received was gawking, surprise, or resentment.  "How are you faring with palace life, my lord?" she murmured as they past some members of the Elite, all of which knelt and placed had-over-heart deal.  

"It's… rather boring," Trunks said.  Part of him wanted to lie and say it was nice.  His better self got in hold of his conscience before he would lie.  This was the Steward's daughter after all.  

Pan chuckled nervously.  "I suppose it is when you don't have anything to do all day."

"What do you do?" Trunks asked, then immediately wanted to slap himself.  Where did this talkativeness come from?  And this curiosity?

Pan blushed.  It was now her turn to feel the pressure of lying or telling the truth.  It was considered unfeminine and utterly against tradition for a woman to try for warrior status.  He would probably find out sooner or later.  She was surprised he hadn't known already.  "I'm trying for warrior status," she said.

Trunks stopped abruptly.  Did he hear correctly or did she say warrior status?

Pan mentally slapped herself.  What else did she expect?  Of course he wasn't going to accept it and wrap her up in a hug, wishing her good luck… she should've known better.  He was a guy.  What's more, he's a king.  You know better than to talk to someone above your rank, she chided herself.

Trunks seemed to have regained voice.  "Congratulations," he said quietly.

Now Pan stopped abruptly.  Did she hear correctly or did he just say congratulations?  "For what?" she asked, slightly confused.

Trunks nearly killed himself.  He had walked right into this one.  There was nothing to do not but explain.  "On Namek, they use to give out awards for bravery, valor, and confidence.  You most certainly qualify for that award.  It would probably take more bravery out of you, more valor out of you, and more confidence out of you to brave the guys in training for warrior status than for me to face an army with all of the Elite behind me."

Pan remained quiet.  She knew a compliment when she heard one.  He would be the first one… and probably the only one… not to recognize it as a shameful and disgraceful action she had committed by wanting to become a warrior.  This king was definitely something else.  

They arrived at the King's chambers.  Before the door, Pan curtsied.  "Good night, my King," she murmured.  

"Good night, Pan, daughter of Gohan," he said in return, his frame leaning against the door.

Pan floated away.  An image of an ancient pagan goddess of the Saiya-jins floated across his mind.  Trunks shook his head.  From what Gohan had told him, Pan was only a girl… a girl of fourteen.  It was wrong to love one so young in such a short amount of time; it was, however, not wrong to admire one so young.  Shaking his head to clear his mind of these thoughts, Trunks went into his room.  Women or girls… they were both equally confusing… and he seemed to have an attraction to both like a bee to nectar.  

**End Chapter IV**

**A/N:**  Really mediocre of a chapter, don't you think?  I don't really like it.  As always, REVIEW!  


	6. Chapter VI

**"Rebels of the Revolution"**

**By Akira**

**Disclaimer:**  I felt that I should do a disclaimer on this chapter with the introduction of new creatures.  Vegeta-sei, Gohan, Goten, Videl, Pan, and Trunks is dutifully Akira Toriyama's.  The idea of the truthseer originated from Tamora Pierce's truthsayers in the Circle of Magic series.  The mages were bred accordingly between the Battle Mages of the Computer game, Heroes III, the mages of Tamora Pierce's writings.  Also, the first line of the summary belongs to Peter Jackson of the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy (Boromir in The Lord of the Rings: the Fellowship of the Ring at the Council of Elrond).

**Summary: **"Saiyans have no king; Saiyans need no king." The heir to the throne returned long from exile – a choice he made long ago. He took the throne, and within months, rumors of a rebellion emerged. The entire planet turned against him… all except one girl.

**Thanks **go out to… Videl17, Kutie-Pan, Butterfly Monkey Babe of, Jezika, and chibigoten124/SSJ3MysticPan… for reviewing!

**Chapter VI**

"There is no way I am letting my daugher be the warrior under **_His majesty_**!" the Steward ended sarcastically.  He was talking, well, more like complaining, to his younger brother, the ever-charming Commander of the Elite.

"I know what you mean and so do all the people, my brother.  We're just not used to having a monarch.  Give him some time."

The young steward let out an anguished sigh.  "Dear Vala," he addressed the goddess of patience and wisdom, "help me."  Further addressing the Elite Commander," All I need is the people's word… and I'll do all within my power to impeach him."

"Don't fret, Gohan.  I'm sure the common people will make up their minds soon enough.  Opinions are still divided upon the matter of the king.  But you know, Gohan, he is a fair and just king compared to the ones past."

"No doubt about that, but he's breaking tradition," Gohan muttered, "breaking **_too_** much of tradition."

A knock sounded on the Steward's study chamber doors, and the doors opened to reveal Videl.  "Sorry to interrupt, my lord," she said as she dipped deep into a curtsey.

Goten blushed slightly and said something along the lines of addressing him only as 'Goten'.

"I need to speak with my… mate," Videl said, looking expectantly at the youngest Steward in history.

"I must be going anyways, my lady Videl."  With a glance at Gohan, he added, "Don't fret too much, my brother."  He bowed to each respectively with a grin on his cheeky face.  He took his scarlet cloak with the golden trim and fastened it around his shoulders.  

Looking helplessly after the door, which closed behind his brother, Gohan returned his gaze to his wife's eyes.  By the gleam shining evilly in her eyes, he decided she heard the entire conversation that just held place in the study chamber.  She was an ardent loyalist to the Crown.  It was evident to all who knew her.

"Did I interpret the conversation correctly, Gohan?" she asked, her voice dangerously low.

He coughed, looking away.  His wife was scary.  The reason he and the last King Vegeta had taken on Earthling mates was because these two in particular were so devastatingly strong in heart and body.  Her physical strength could not beat his, but it left a pretty deep scar.

His wife gave a low chuckle.  Her ebony waves of hair surrounded her face, giving her a halo of black.  It had a drastically painful effect on the Steward of Vegeta-sei.  "Oh, don't give me that horrified look, Gohan!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air.  "You know punishment can be fun!"

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

"Do you possess a Magic?" the King asked his charge.

"No, my lord.  My parents had me checked last summer," the Steward's daughter dipped into a curtsey.

"Very well then.  We're on the same level.  That's good because I don't have Magic either," the King replied, his eyes dancing as he surveyed his fourteen-year-old warrior-in-training.

Pan allowed a little smile to escape her usually calm and cold façade.  Nearly two months had passed since the King first stepped into their palace, and those two months had been filled with enjoyment on her part.  Her fancy had been quite caught with this young king, and it had doubled with undesired consequences as he had told her that he wanted to take her under his wing.  She could no longer look at the young monarch without blushing or have him pay her a compliment without her heart pounding into an ecstatic rhythm.

"Let's go to the target grounds, shall we?" the youthful sovereign asked.  It was a beautiful day outside.  The gardens he had started to plant when he first arrived were just about to bloom.

"Of course, my lord," she said, dipping into another curtsey, the lavender silk draping onto the floor.

"First, we need to get you out of that dress," he remarked.  Winking at her, Trunks also asked her with a rather worried expression, "You **_do_** have a training outfit, right?"

Pan stopped walking altogether.  "**_What_** do you take me for, my lord?  I **_have_** been training, waiting, for the day since I was a mere seven years of age."

Trunks made a note to himself that Pan sounded most like her father in that tone.  He was an idiot.  She was right, of course.  "I'm sorry," Trunks replied, his voice sincere.  

**End Chapter VI**

**A/N:**  AH!  And I thought the last chapter was really mediocre of a chapter!  This one was worse!  *sobs*  It's the first filler I've ever written, and I **_hate_** it!  I **_beg_** of you reviewers to help me think of names and ideas!  I'm slowly running out!  Oh, and I won't be making any more fast updates such as the past week.  I've been bogged down with stuff and etc from school.  Also, leaving for a YMCA Youth thing from the third to the fifth.  I think I'll update Rebels once a week every week… so check back for an update on Wednesday… and possibly one Saturday!

Btw, has anyone ever read Tamora Pierce's Protector of the Small series?  It's one of the best fantasy series out there!

I've had people ask me what Trunks's age was… I'm not completely sure myself.  How old do **_you _**think he is?  No, that is **_not _**a rhetorical question!  **_REVIEW_**!


	7. Chapter VII

**"Rebels of the Revolution"**

**By Akira**

**Disclaimer:**  For the most thorough disclaimer, read the one in the last chapter.  Everyone, every place, everything belongs to their rightful owners – ideas and plot are mine.  Most likely, everything else you recognize is purely coincidental. 

**Summary: **"Saiyans have no king; Saiyans need no king." The heir to the throne returned long from exile – a choice he made long ago. He took the throne, and within months, rumors of a rebellion emerged. The entire planet turned against him… all except one girl.

**Thanks **go out to… T/Ptears, caryn, Kutie-Pan, Juuanagou4ever, pan, chibigoten124/SSJ3MysticPan, Videl17, Butterfly Monkey Babe of (x2)… for reviewing!  **Special thanks** go out to Videl17 and pan for trying to guess how old Trunks was… the answer is at the Author's Note at the end of the chapter!

**Chapter VII**

The Fall festival snuck up on everyone without any precautions or warnings.  The few months that had passed since Trunks's arrival did not prepare him at all for what the Saiya-jins considered their most festive time of the year.  It is in his study, where he is trying to prepare, which one finds him today.

A large sigh was heard escaping the mouth of the young prince… well, King.  It had been only a few months he's been called King as opposed to the years he had been called prince.  His stomach was running wild with butterflies, and his nerves were on end.  He was to take first pick at the selection of warrior-in-training, and he, as well as nearly the entire Saiya-jin population, had a pretty good idea of whom he was to pick.  Some approved of his decision; however, most did not.

A knock was heard rapped upon his study chamber doors.  "Come in," Trunks answered, hurriedly trying to fasten his cloak.  No doubt it was Gohan, the Steward, trying to get him to hurry.  He turned to look out the window; he didn't want Gohan to know he was struggling with his **_cloak_** of all things.

"My Lord, you called?" Pan swept a curtsey, which looked quite awkward in her full training gear.

In his anxiety and nervousness, he had forgotten he had called on Pan.  "Oh, yes.  Do you wish to train under me, Pan, daughter of the Steward?" Trunks kept his back turned as he continued to struggle with his cloak.  In the months that had preceded this day, and the few talks with Pan that had ensued during them, she had asked him not to address her full title… he was trying to break the habit… trying.

A silence ensued as Pan pondered.  A timid controlled voice answered in an almost monotone, "If it is my Lord – my King – 's will then I shall not protest… even if it is against my father's wishes."

"Do you have an opinion on your own behalf?" Trunks inquired, turning around, one hand rested on the fastening of his cloak.

"I do, my king, but it is inferior to those under whom I serve such as you ad my father."  Pan kept her usually laughing eyes downcast.

"I am asking for your opinion, or do you not have one?" Trunks's gaze remained on the young girl.  He had never asked for her opinion on things before.  

"I have an opinion, my King, but it is not my place to say it."  Pan's voice was taut as if strung tightly on a bow.  It was pressed.  Trunks recognized the strained tone in it.  He had heard it numerous times, warning him about him crossing the line.

He couldn't understand why Pan was so uptight.  Regardless of her tone, Trunks pressed on.  He knew he was King and with it came the power invested in the throne.  "It is if I say so.  Now, Pan, daughter of Gohan, Steward of Vegeta-sei, would you want to train under me officially?  I don't' want to press you to do anything you don't want to do."  Trunks fought back a chuckle.  He was already doing so by forcing her opinion out of her.

Pan's face flushed at the thought of having a say in something for once… but her face didn't reflect any of the appreciation she felt.  This King might be nice, but he had a way of making her riled up… by openly forcing her to say something when she had openly objected to doing so.  Eyes blazing, Pan kept her voice low, "My King, being able to train under you **_officially_** would be my greatest pleasure, and it's been my dream to serve under a truly qualified warrior other than my father and uncle.  Even if it is against my father's will, I would defy him to my death to serve under you!" Pan stopped for a breath.  At first, she looked as if she would continue but then stopped in compliance with her better judgement.  With a bet red face, pan curtsied again, "May I have permission to leave, my King?"

Trunks knew he was wrong to push her to her limit.  He should have already known she wouldn't object to training under him – she had been doing so, though not officially, twice a month – but he had gone egotistical and wanted to hear it from her mouth.  Nodding his apologies, he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.  In an incredulous voice, he asked hesitantly, "Will you help me with my cloak first?"

Pan walked over with a feminine grace in her warrior garb and fastened his cloak with her nimble fingers.  She turned and went out of the King's study chambers, pausing only by the door to remark, "Have a great Fall Festival, my  Lord, and pick a good one."

Trunks watched her go with mixed feelings.  He had developed a fondness for this mere fourteen-year-old as an older brother might a little sister.  They had not talked much, no, she was always busy with training.  During the two training sessions a month with her, he had only time to teach her new stances, measure her progress, and train himself with little talk.  He had been learning the ways of the throne and of instinct of the Saiya-jin nature – one thing he found was intruding more and more into his life nowadays.  Sadly enough, here on Vegeta-sei, Pan was the closest on to him… or seemingly the closest one that cared about him… yet she couldn't express an opinion without getting angry at him.

Not for the first time since he had encountered this new gender, Trunks thought to himself, _'Women **are** weird.'_

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Lanterns were strung above all amid the stars in the sky.  A rounded platform rose from the center of the crowd.  The members of the Elite, who were currently on Vegeta-sei and wished to have a warrior-in-training, stood upon it.  Other warriors who also wished for a warrior-in-training also made their way onto the platform.  The King and Steward approached the platform, one anxious face and one unreadable face respectively.  As the King and Steward made themselves comfortable with the other warriors, the group of youngsters – warriors-in-training, or trainees – gathered in the far corner of the festive square.

Trunks twitched nervously… in mere minutes he would be in front of this crowd made up of his subject – in mere minutes he would announce with finality who he would train for the next four years.  He had been afraid of his kingdom when he first arrived, but now the fear back then seemed petty compared to the one he faced now.  He knew of rumors – no, he had not heard them all; with all the gossip, who would know **_all_** of what is flying around? – about him.  These people remained respectful because it was expected of them, not out of respect for him.  He had yet to earn that.  

After a kiss on the forehead from her father, Pan sought out the King and went to stand by him.  She touched his hand lightly to let him know she was there.  He didn't respond verbally but smiled bleakly at her.  She felt herself grinning back a smile of reassurance.  He would do fine; she had no qualms about it.

In the simple matter of seconds which the two smiled at each other, both knew that the morning's hot tempers had slowly gone out.  With the knowledge of a sense of usefulness not present since he left Namek, Trunks performed his part dutifully and flawlessly.  Backed by each other and their faithlessness in themselves, but faithfulness in the other, the two basked in the beacon of limelight shone upon them that night.  It was the night that would change the lives of the both of them… and rewrite history as Saiya-jins knew it.****

**End Chapter VII**

**A/N:**  Happy Easter to all!  Nice little present, don't you think?  How many people had the Easter bunny come and visit them?  Pray tell, I'd like to know!

Hit a minor writer's block, which I had to clear up before I could go on with the story.  If anyone noticed that the chapter didn't flow correctly through the majority of the chapter, my excuse is the writer's block.  It caused me to write the chapter at intervals.  One thing good did happen out of this: I've got the rest of the story outlined.  ^ ^'  Oh, and sorry about the ending of the last chapter – it was a reiteration of the end of chapter V – I've fixed the problem.

Early on, I made the decision not to keep the 14-year age difference between them.  I knew I wanted to shorten it for this story, but to what extent I did not know.  After reviewing my reviews (no pun intended) and pondering on such matters, I have decided to bestow upon you humble readers the knowledge of Trunks's age.  King Trunks Vegeta Briefs, in this particular story, is twenty-four and five moons old.

As always… **_REVIEW_**!


	8. Chapter VIII

**"Rebels of the Revolution"**

**By Akira**

**Disclaimer:**  Vegeta-sei, Gohan, Goten, Videl, Pan, and Trunks are dutifully Akira Toriyama's.  The first line of the summary belongs to Peter Jackson of the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy (Boromir in The Lord of the Rings: the Fellowship of the Ring at the Council of Elrond).  Midwinter comes from several different fantasy books I've read.  Lastly, there is mention of Enerials and Enerial forged weapons in this chapter.  Both belong solely to my friend, Natalie Perry, who has granted me permission to use the Enerials for my own purposes.

**Summary: **"Saiyans have no king; Saiyans need no king." The heir to the throne returned long from exile – a choice he made long ago. He took the throne, and within months, rumors of a rebellion emerged. The entire planet turned against him… all except one girl.

**Thanks **go out to… GothicAngel, Kutie-Pan, Videl17 (x2), pan, and chibigoten124/SSJ3MysticPan… for reviewing!  

**Chapter VIII**

"You can do better than that… especially if you are a Son," Goten smiled at his niece as she inspected her arrow an inch off the center of the target.

Pan shrugged as her uncle approached.  Quicker than the eye could see, she fitted another arrow to the string.  "You and my father take too much pride in our name," Pan said as she aimed.

The arrow flew.  This time it struck the outer rim.  Pan flinched; it hurt to know she fouled up in front of her uncle.  Goten tousled his niece's hair.  He had seen her flinch.  "It might help if you didn't shift right before you let the arrow go."

"The King says the same," Pan told her uncle as she fitted yet another arrow.

"Where is he?  Isn't he supposed to be watching you?  Or rather, aren't you supposed to be helping him in some fashion or another?" Goten inquired.  It was very rare to spot a trainee without their trainer.  

"He's in the baths.  Do you wish me to find him for you?" Pan loosed another arrow.

Goten went red as he comprehended the underlining message of that question.  "No, it's alright.  I was just curious."

_Thud._  The arrow split Pan's first arrow.  Pan heaved a heavy sigh and fitted another arrow.

"Why are you learning archery?"  Goten phrased a very good question.  Usually, Saiya-jins combated hand-to-hand, no weapons.

"My Lord wishes me to learn it.  He says it doesn't hurt to learn how to use weapons.  It doesn't involve raising kis, so the enemy knows not your position.  Also, it doesn't drain power, no matter how little," Pan replied as another arrow went flying.

"Waste of ti-" Goten was cut off by the thud of the arrow.  It had struck center.  Clapping was heard from behind them.  Both of them turned.  Heading towards them was Trunks, approval gleaming in his eyes.

Goten knelt, hand over heart, warrior fashion.  Trunks nodded towards him quickly before turning right to Pan.  "I see you've finally found your knack for it."

"It was only one arrow," Pan said, blushing.  She rarely had compliments.

"Try again."

Pan raised her bow, already with the arrow, aimed, and released.  It went a little off center.  "It was luck, my lord," she murmured, casting down her eyes so he wouldn't see her disappointment.

"No, not entirely.  Your stance has a tiny flaw and so does your grasp on the bow."  Trunks furrowed his eyebrows for a minute.  He then reached out and corrected her posture as he saw fit.  "Try it again."

This time the arrow struck center, splitting her previous arrow.  "Good.  Shall we retire to eat now?  That was my main reason for coming out here in the first place," Trunks said, gathering up the bow and arrows left.  

Pan jumped up and squealed, happiness flowing around her.  She rushed to take down the target.  The King and the daughter of the Steward proceeded to happily float towards the palace, empty stomachs anticipating the food it was about to receive.

Back at the practice square, Son Goten, Warrior Commander of the Elite, rose, a confusion clouding his face.  In one minute to the next, he had been pushed over and ignored like a fly.  Slowly, the Commander walked back towards the palace.

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

In the weeks to come, Son Pan mastered the bow and dagger.  All left was the sword.  Since neither of them had the time to practice very often – Trunks had to be briefed and prepared for the Enerials' visit to Vegeta-sei, and Pan was stuck in the palace all day with practice for serving at the Midwinter Festival – they both decided that practices at dawn would be the most convenient… and given the circumstances, stay the most constant.  Pan slept in the room adjacent to Trunks now despite her father's ill wishes.  A long Council debate had been waged over this, but in the end, the King came out victorious with the argument of tradition for once on his side.

Trunks smiled as he saw a tousled hair Pan stumble into his room at first light.  "Good morning, my dear trainee.  How are you?  Never mind that, get out your training sword.  We begin pattern dances today!"

"You look too happy, my lord," Pan grumbled.  Awkwardly she found the too-large training sword and began in the most simple pattern dance.

Trunks took out Avalir, his own sword, to begin his practice.  Avalir was Enerial forged – the best that could be forged by mortals.  As he finished the last spin with a grunt half a bell later, he checked on the status of his little trainee.  "Progress?'

"Slow," Pan replied, a grimace on her face.  She set down the sword on his desk.  "I can't finish the third step without stumbling."

"It can be fixed.  I had the same problem.  Just remember to keep your hold on your sword tight, don't fidget because you know it's the next step, and concentrate on your foot pattern, not the position of the sword.  The wall tapestries and curtains are all replaceable should a certain sword slash them in half," Trunks said, smiling at his trainee.  "Enough for today.  Stretch out your muscles some more before you take your bath.  Report back to me after your bath."

Pan stumbled back into her room, grabbed a fresh set of clothes – comfortable clothes because it was only practice today – and headed towards the warm bath awaiting her.  It was bound to be a long Midwinter week with sword practices at dawn.

**End Chapter VIII**

**A/N:**  Hope you guys don't hold a grudge against me because I skipped from the Fall Festival all the way to Midwinter – which is sort of like the Saiya-jin equivalent of Christmas.

As always… **_REVIEW_**!


	9. Chapter IX

**"Rebels of the Revolution"**

**By Akira**

**Disclaimer:**  Vegeta-sei, Gohan, Goten, Videl, Pan, and Trunks are dutifully Akira Toriyama's.  The first line of the summary belongs to Peter Jackson of the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy (Boromir in The Lord of the Rings: the Fellowship of the Ring at the Council of Elrond).  Midwinter comes from several different fantasy books I've read.  Lastly, there is mention of Enerials and Enerial forged weapons in this chapter.  Both belong solely to my friend, Natalie, who has granted me permission to use the Enerials for my own purposes.

**Summary: **"Saiyans have no king; Saiyans need no king." The heir to the throne returned long from exile – a choice he made long ago. He took the throne, and within months, rumors of a rebellion emerged. The entire planet turned against him… all except one girl.

**Thanks **go out to… Kutie-Pan, T/Ptears, Videl17 (hehe, I think that was the first time anyone's ever actually criticized me), Jezika, Royal-grandbrat, chibigoten124/SSJ3MysticPan, and kaji Hikage… for reviewing!  

**Chapter IX**

"Nervous?"

"A bit… I've never met an Enerial before, my lord," Pan informed her King.

"They're nice… I wonder who's arriving in the delegation…."

Trunks's wish was granted instantly.  Six guards went to help three different figures out of three different space pods as Andrean, assistant commander of the Elite and one of Trunks's advisors, announced, "Lady Jenaesilan Acarae Saynarette, daughter of the late Lord Faeran, the former-ruler of Kalaenrya, and also Lady of the great Enerial forest dwelling of Kalaenrya and the Enerial capital, Alsenaet." 

Pan noted that Trunks's eyes lit up with a mixture of pleasure, relief, and mischief as the name was announced.  Making a mental note to herself to ask him about it later, Pan stood in line with the rest of the greeting party, which surprisingly didn't include her father or uncle, but given the circumstances (the two of them had had an argument with Trunks previously this morning), she assumed they wanted the king to do this on his own.

"**_Lady_** Jenaesilaen Acarae Saynarette," Trunks swept the Enerial princess a bow and kissed her hand.  He had pronounced the name with deadly accuracy as Pan noted.  "Welcome to Vegeta-sei.  We are honored to have you with us."

"The honor is all mine, my lord," the musical voice replied as the tall Enerial curtsied.  "May I introduce to you my brother, Prince Naethegaelyn Saynarette, son of my late father, Lord Faeran, but mothered by my father's fifth consort, Lady Serus, a Plaenriael lady of the Mystical Forest, and…" here the tall Enerial stopped when she was nudged by her brother, Prince Naethegaelyn….  "…And you can call him Naeon."  She motioned to the other being next to her, "And my loyal friend, Nayena of the indefinite race, the Nyras.  I do not believe you have met them before."

"Indeed I have not.  Welcome, welcome to Vegeta-sei, all of you!  Let us get you settled into your rooms and come nightfall, we'll dine in the Main Hall," Trunks said, bowing to Prince Naeon and Nayena in turn.

Pan, hidden in the corner along with other warriors, struggled to hold back her laughter as Trunks said 'Main Hall'.  That was just the nice, fancier term for Mess Hall.  She settled herself down just in time to hear her training master call her.  "Yes, my King?" Pan curtsied in her silk attire.

"I want you to show Nayena her rooms in the West Wing," Trunks said.  "If you will please follow me, your majesties, I'll show you to your **_adjoining _**rooms."  Trunks ushered the Enerial royalties towards the North Wing, leaving Pan with Nayena as the party of warriors dispersed.

"Hello, Mistress Nayena.  My name is Son Pan, trainee to my King.  This way please," Pan said, leading the way down the gray path towards the West Wing.

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

"New friend, Jenaesil?" Trunks asked, dropping all formalities as his eyes wandered onto Nayena's retreating back.

"No, quite contrary, in fact.  Met her before I met you.  Quite interesting," the Enerial princess replied.

"Really shy though," the Enerial prince noted.

Trunks turned to study the prince as he fell into step beside him.  "Prince Naeon, forgive me for asking, but why haven't I seen you before on my journeys to Silaenrya?  I've known Jenaesil for years, but not once have I met you before."

Trunks saw Jenaesil turn towards her brother and nudge him slyly.  "Yes, Naeon, why have you **_not _**been around?"

"Aesil," he protested, "don't gang up on a poor, defenseless creature such as myself!"

"Defenseless?  I would hardly call you defenseless," Jenaesil replied, her eyes glittering.

"Aesil?" Trunks interrupted, confused, "Who's Aesil?"

Naeon snickered and pointed to a blushing Enerial princess.  "My little sister's nickname," he supplied.

"Don't you try calling me that, my Lord," Jenaesil said, still blushing as her hand fingered a dagger tucked into her belt.  "As for you, Naeon, don't push your luck.  I know a few nicknames you've been called in the past century.  You wouldn't want me to tell the Lord, here, what **_Taenary_** means and who called you that?"

Trunks gulped.  The Enerial had beat him in every competition since he was a little child.  "Yes, my lady.  Of course, my lady," he murmured, not pushing his luck.

Naeon laughed, dropping a hand on Trunks's back.  "She's got you wrapped around her little finger."

Jenaesil turned and whispered something into her brother's ear.  After a moment, the Enerial prince turned bright scarlet.  "Need I say more?" she ended, this time loud enough for Trunks's hearing.

Trunks clapped a hand on the Prince's shoulder, "Nay, my friend.  It is not I who is wrapped around her little finger.  That honor belongs solely to you," he ended with a sly wink towards Jenaesil.

After Trunks showed the Enerial royalties to their rooms, he returned to his own where his young trainee awaited him.  "We're moving dawn practices to the practice gardens," he informed Pan.  "Jen- I mean, the Enerials are training with us."

Pan's jaw dropped.  "My Lord, I'm not ready.  I mean," she corrected herself hastily as she saw Trunks's eyes turn hard, "they'll be so much more superior to me!"

"They'll leave us to our own practices.  Perhaps they'll even give you a few pointers.  And think of this as a way to learn more about their culture."

Pan curtsied and left.  She knew a dismissal when she heard one… and plus, she didn't like to be in the same room as the King when he turned slightly angry….  Bringing out her practice sword, she practiced a series of twists and turns in her own room.  She had been granted an off-day from serving practice for the festival by leave of the king due to the greeting of Enerials, so she might as well make the most of the day.

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

"Go fetch Nayena and meet me in the garden," Trunks instructed Pan as he set out for the North Wing.

**End Chapter IX**

**A/N:**  More descriptions about the Enerials in the next chapter… and probably most questions you have concerning them will be answered in the next chapter.  As for Videl17's point about my not having a point to these short chapters *smile*  I actually had to go back and reread every chapter to make **_sure_** I had a point, however brief and vague it may be.  Lol.  Well, anyways, usually the point to a chapter is, for instance, this chapter, introducing the Enerials.  They'll play a key part.  Also, I'm trying to keep the updates relatively short so I **_can_** update every week.  I'm trying to pull other stories, which I've laid down back up… and working on that plus this and others is really stressful.  So please try to bear with me.  Whew!  That was a long A/N!

As always… **_REVIEW_**!


	10. Chapter X

**"Rebels of the Revolution"**

**By Akira**

**Disclaimer:**  Vegeta-sei, Gohan, Goten, Videl, Pan, and Trunks are dutifully Akira Toriyama's.  The first line of the summary belongs to Peter Jackson of the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy (Boromir in The Lord of the Rings: the Fellowship of the Ring at the Council of Elrond).  Midwinter comes from several different fantasy books I've read.  Lastly, there is mention of Enerials and Enerial forged weapons in this chapter.  Both belong solely to my friend, Natalie, who has granted me permission to use the Enerials for my own purposes.

**Summary: **"Saiyans have no king; Saiyans need no king." The heir to the throne returned long from exile – a choice he made long ago. He took the throne, and within months, rumors of a rebellion emerged. The entire planet turned against him… all except one girl.

**Thanks **go out to… Jezika, Natalie, Videl17, and Simon… for reviewing!  

**Chapter X**

"Your style is very peculiar, trainee Pan, daughter of Gohan, Steward of Vegeta-sei," the tall Enerial Lady remarked at the first session of their dawn practice as she surveyed Trunks and Pan at swordwork.

Pan pasted a smile on her face, but inwardly she was sighing.  Just when she had broken the King out of his habit of calling her "daughter of Gohan, Steward of Vegeta-sei…", Jenaesil had showed up with it again.  She didn't hold a grudge against the Enerial, for Pan knew it was of their custom.  Pan smiled wanly, "I do not know whether to take that as a compliment or no, my Lady."

"Oh, I was not trying to criticize you, young one; I was merely noting that," Jenaesil assured her.  "It certainly differs from my style.  Perhaps the King is trying to show you a new way."

Pan blushed a little and dropped the heavy wooden practice sword.  "My Lady is too kind," she murmured, trying to will power back into her arms and pick the sword back up.

Jenaesil laughed, "Just as my Lord is too hard on his trainees.  Here, try this sword."  Jenaesil held out a sword of similar design as Trunks's.  "It's my own so it might be slightly bigger than what you are used to."

Pan gripped the sword hilt offered to her.  The silver sword was feather light.  She stepped into her combination pattern dance.  Just as she was about to finish the final twirl with the sword, a flash of silver stopped the flow of the sword through air.  As the clanging noise startled her out of reality, Pan looked up to meet the cobalt eyes of her King.  "My Lord?" she asked quizzically, wondering what he would want.  She had been flawless… or so she hoped.

"You're getting too comfortable with that sword, Pan," Trunks noted.  "The last two steps you just finished, you performed them as one who was dependent on the sword to guide them.  Let your instincts and reflexes guide you, not your sword, or in this case, not the Lady's sword."  He turned to Lady Jenaesil, "My Lady, it is far too early in her practices with the sword to practice with Enerial-forged swords."

"Nay, my Lord.  Our children practice with these swords from the beginning, and we produce some of the finest swordsmen.  You are taxing her already strained muscles with that wooden sword."

"I suppose you know best, my Lady, but…" he replied with a wink to his little audience of Pan, Naeon, and Nayena, all of whom were standing nearby.  

As Trunks and Jenaesil continued their conversation of the pros and cons of sword training, Prince Naeon moved closer to Pan.  "Trust what those two tell you.  They may not look it, but both are lethal with their swords," he murmured to her.  After that brief two sentences, he moved to break up what was on verge of becoming a verbal fight.

Pan stood rooted to the ground.  Did those rolling tones in Prince Naeon's voice cause this reaction to every female, or was it just her?  

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

"My Lord?" Pan poked her head into the King's inner chambers.  "Shall I go fetch the guests?"

Trunks met her eyes.  "In a moment.  First help me decide, pale green or ice blue?"

Confusion reigned for a cursed few moments before it registered in Pan's head that she was to help him pick out a dinner outfit.  "Ice blue, my Lord.  Frankly, you'd stand out like a green weed if you were to wear green during Midwinter."

"Very true.  Thank you," he turned with the blue outfit in hand to his changing and bathing chambers.  He paused by the door, "Oh, and go get the guests.  Meet me in the Great Hall.  I shall be there momentarily."

Pan walked out, quietly closing the door behind her.  She had already dressed up in her off-white silk gown.  Yes, even her, the tomboy, had managed to be wrangled into a gown – not a dress, but a **_gown_** – for the Midwinter dinner.  And to make matters worse, this was only the first out of an entire week.  Exquisite designs covered the entire gown, three-quarter sleeves, and right down to the delicate trim at the ankle-length hem.  She nodded swiftly to Blaze, a trainee of fifteen serving under Andrean, who passed her in the corridor.  Unlike all the other trainees, who were to be serving during the entire festival, she would serve the High Table and dine there also.  _'Ah… the glory and fame of being my father's daughter….'_

"My Lady and Prince, are you ready?" Pan called out softly as she knocked on the door to the Enerials' chambers.

The door opened by itself and Pan timidly walked in.  "If you would please, my King requests you to join him for dinner," she said formally polite with a curtsey as protocol demanded.

Lady Jenaesil smiled warmly at Pan, "Wait one moment.  My brother requires a little more time."

"Yes, my Lady," Pan curtsied again, staring in awe at the Enerial Lady.  Her auburn curls were pulled into a bun with tendrils artistically left framing her face.  The delicate white dress, which the Lady had donned, was simple, elegant, and flowing.  Though the Lady's height rivaled that of the tallest Saiya-jins, thus was Enerial nature to be tall, her attire had accentuated her figure instead of exaggerating it to unreal proportions.  

Pan was further astonished as Prince Naeon entered a few minutes later.  "Prince Naethegaelyn," Pan murmured, unable to keep her eyes off of him as she swept yet another curtsey.  The Prince fastened the clasp of his belt, where the hilt of his sword and his dagger were visible, on around his waist as he smiled at Pan.  

Misinterpreting her stare as one of question, Naeon chuckled, "Enerial bodyguards of the Royal Family always dons black in public.  I am an exception though I like to stay true to custom."

Pan blushed and looked down.  She edged closer to the door as Lady Jenaesil got up to fasten her brother's cloak around his shoulders.  Then she proceeded to lead them to the Great Hall.

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Nayena was already there beside Trunks.  She scurried to the sides of familiar figures as soon as they walked through the doors.  Her dress was a shade of blue much darker than the light blue of her hair.  Pan smiled briefly at the Nyra and moved to Trunks's side.

"Your father and uncle will be dining with us at the High Table," Trunks murmured to Pan as the Enerials approached.

Pan paled considerably at the news.  Father and Uncle… the two of whom could **_never_** stay around Trunks for five minutes without starting a verbal fight.  "I shall sit by Father, then?" Pan asked, directing the conversation onto lighter ground.  She had done this for the benefit of the Enerials, but she might've conjured up a wall for all the good it did – the Enerials were absorbed in their own conversation, quietly following them.

"Yes, sit by your Father, across from me.  I shall escort you and Nayena in, leaving those two –" here Trunks wiggled his eyebrows towards the Enerials – "to fend for themselves."

"You are a bad man, my King," Pan murmured as she latched herself onto Trunks's arm.  

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

"How goes your training, O daughter of mine?" Gohan asked of his daughter as she sat down for the meal, having finished serving the first few courses and the main course.

"Fine, Father, progress is coming along quickly," she replied deftly, knowing very well that if she mentioned weapons, the scene would turn out quite… interesting.

"The King… he's not trying anything on you that's out of custom, is he?" Gohan asked casually, keeping his voice low so that Trunks, seated across from them, could not hear.

"No, sir, he's very knowledgeable, punctual, and everything else one could wish for in a trainer," Pan replied, keeping her eyes off of Trunks, who she knew was hearing every word and would gloat over this for days, possibly weeks.

"Good, good," Gohan smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.  He still seemed convinced that he had handed his daughter over to a monster… a very pretty monster, but a monster nonetheless.

Videl smiled across the table at the King, "What have you been teaching little Pan?"  

"Well, my Lady, you can see she's no longer **_little_**," Trunks remarked, a teasing smile on his lips.  Pan had grown three inches since the Fall Festival, and although her muscles were sinewy as opposed to bulky, they were noticeable.  "We've been working very long and hard at her combat skills, hand-to-hand, that is."

"Hand-to-hand?  Last I saw her, she was working on archery, and that, my King, is **_definitely_** not hand-to-hand," the Warrior Commander of the Elite remarked as his eyes flickered from teasing and smiling to confusion and resentment.  

"My dear Warrior Commander, your wonderful niece, my trainee, mastered the bow and arrows a long time ago.  Perhaps if you were to practice with us more often, you would've known that," Trunks replied smoothly.  He was not on the best of terms with the Elite Commander.

"Why must you insist on training Pan in the use of weapons when Saiya-jins clearly do not need them?  We can out-fight any race that uses weapons in a matter of seconds by just our sheer **_power_**," Gohan stated, voicing the one thing, which had been the source of much disagreement between him and the King.

An audible sigh was heard from Trunks as he was about to reply, but another male voice interrupted.  "My Lord Gohan, have you ever studied the art of weaponry?" the deep masculine voice asked.  Heads swiveled towards the Enerial two seats down from Trunks.  Prince Naeon smiled, "I take your silence as a 'no'.  The use of weapons eliminates the waste of energy and power, the both of which I understand is what Saiya-jins pride themselves with.  Creatures, Saiya-jins included, last much longer in battle with the use of weapons.  Enerials, such as myself, trained in the skill of multiple weapons, know the advantage and benefit of hand-crafted battle tools.  We would not require the time to call our power to ourselves, such as you and other Saiya-jins might, but instead, we would use quick reflexes and natural instincts to instantly have in our hands a weapon."  Naeon stopped, looking at the faces staring at him.  He held up his right hand, in which he held his simple dagger, "I could have hurt most of you, possibly maim you for life, without you even knowing for the entire length of time I held this in my hand.  No, do not raise your powers.  I will not hurt you."  He fastened his dagger back onto his belt and returned to his meal, having said his share.

Trunks nodded his thanks.  For once in this familiar argument, Gohan was left speechless.  That was a first.  He risked a glance at Pan and told her, "That, my little trainee, is exactly why I am training you into mastering different weapons.  I learned from the Nameks and Enerials the reason behind weapons long ago."

Pan nodded, swallowing the last of her meal.  She stood, curtsied to her elders, and left the High Table only to return with a pitcher of water to refill everyone's drinks.

**End Chapter X**

**A/N: **My weekly update!  Well, there was too much descriptions in this chapter than I would've liked, but I've always been criticized as not having **_enough _**descriptions, so *shrug*.  

You may ask why I update such short chapters.  My answer:  I enjoy quick updates, and I try as hard as I can to meet deadlines, so sometimes the product of that is short.  I think this might be my longest chapter yet.

You may also ask why I include the Enerials so much.  My answer:  I honestly don't know.  I understand how some people come to ff.net for fanfics about characters they already know from the anime/book/whatever and not so much original characters, but I guess this puts a little spin on the story… and adds a little flavor.

Just a little extra note, and I'll try to keep out of this habit, but:

_Videl17:_  I hope this chapter was long enough to satisfy your thirst!

_Simon:_  I read your bio, aaaand I'm very happy, ecstatic actually, that I'm getting one of your good reviews!

Oh, and anyone want to be on my e-mailing list?  For updates that is… strictly updates.

As always… **_REVIEW_**!


	11. Chapter XI

**"Rebels of the Revolution"**

**By Akira**

**Disclaimer:**  Vegeta-sei, Gohan, Goten, Videl, Pan, and Trunks are dutifully Akira Toriyama's.  The first line of the summary belongs to Peter Jackson of the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy (Boromir in The Lord of the Rings: the Fellowship of the Ring at the Council of Elrond).  Midwinter comes from several different fantasy books I've read.  Lastly, there is mention of Enerials and Enerial forged weapons in this chapter.  Both belong solely to my friend, Natalie, who has granted me permission to use the Enerials for my own purposes.

**Summary: **"Saiyans have no king; Saiyans need no king." The heir to the throne returned long from exile – a choice he made long ago. He took the throne, and within months, rumors of a rebellion emerged. The entire planet turned against him… all except one girl.

**Thanks **go out to… my ever faithful reviewers: Videl17 and Jezika… for reviewing!  

**Chapter XI**

Dawn practices came and went, as one would expect the routine to but alas, there is always an exception.  On the day after the previously mentioned "civilized argument" between the King and Steward at the High Table, King Trunks introduced a new weapon to his trainee.  Around the corner, Andrean, the assistant commander of the Elite and Trunks's main advisor, was around the corner training with his trainee.  It seemed as if after all the arguments with the Steward, the King had made a point, and Saiya-jins would alter their culture to incorporate weapons.

"The kris, my dear trainee," Trunks held up a silver dagger sort of weapon.  Unlike the original dagger, however, the kris had a wavy blade.  "Small, but a well-placed blow or shot could turn out fatal.  Mid-to-short range weapon.  One can use it as a throwing knife, a regular dagger, or a surprise technique for the enemy."

Pan smiled as the light reflected off the sharp edge of the blade.  She was positive she would love it.  It would be her signature weapon since it was so uncommon – small but lethal, just like her.  "So when do we start, my lord?"

"On the count of three," he replied.  Tossing one of the spares he had towards her, he started counting, "One… Two… Three…."

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Two more festival dinners passed in similar fashion with the exception of talk of weapons.  It seemed as if Gohan finally realized that weapons held a very strategic point of battle.  On the night after the third festival dinner, Trunks remained behind with Pan, while she finished her dinner, as everyone else retired to their rooms.

"Have you ever considered marriage, trainee Pan?"

By the tone of voice, Trunks was serious.  Pan spit out the bit of venison from the beef stew.  "What?!" she screamed.  When she saw the appalled look on Trunks's face, she settled and asked more calmly, "Pardon?  Did I hear you correctly, my Lord?"

"Yes.  Your father asked me to confront you with this matter soon… preferably before Longnight, which we both know is tomorrow."

Pan thought out the answer to her question as the King leaned back in his chair, sipping a drink equivalent to the sparkling wine from Earth.  It was long the moment before she answered, and when she did answer, she measured out her words slowly and effectively.  "No, my Lord.  In all honesty, I've not even considered marriage in my future.  I want to be a warrior of the Elite.  Those in the Elite must not be distracted by the cry of family duty.  I shall not be an exception."

"Love will find you one day, my little trainee.  For now, however, you made a very wise and good decision.  Though I've not been in the Elite very long, nor have I grown up around Saiya-jin Elite or culture, I've grown to realize that Elite Warriors have a sense of love and duty unparalleled by anything else, and as such, one who is not an Elite Warrior would not understand.  Warriors, especially the Elite, seldom form permanent attachments to anyone or anything.  We're friends, always, and sometimes things get more intense than that, but it doesn't last for long.  Maybe it's because our hearts are given first to our comrades, then to our duty and monarchs – but I've yet to earn all their love – and I guess there aren't too many of us with hearts big enough for a third love.  Their third love would be family, if one were to choose that."

Pan looked at him through wondering eyes.  Three months had he been here, compared to her fourteen years, yet he had observed and understood so much more than she.  Finishing her beef stew, Pan stood and curtsied swiftly to Trunks.  "My Lord, I must retire for the night," she said.  Remembering she was to spend Longnight with her family, and that Trunks had no family, she turned at the door, "My Lord, you're welcome to spend Longnight with us."  As an afterthought, she added, "I'd really appreciate it."

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

A small rustling noise woke Pan up on the dawn of Longnight.  Her muscles aching from practice with the kris yesterday made her cross as she was roused from her sleep.  "Who is it?" she grumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Lady Pan, I was just arranging your gifts," a small voice replied.  

Looking up, Pan saw a girl, not even eight winters old yet.  Her attire clearly marked her as a servant, one of the palace servants.  "It's alright, continue."  Pan slipped out of bed, stretching out the kinks that had lodged themselves in her back during the night.  Her sore muscles protesting, she made her way to her privy.  Yesterday, dawn practice had been fascinating.  She was a natural at the kris, and her speedy progress had encouraged everyone to practice an hour or two after their normal ending time.  The hour or two had taken its toll on her.  Walking back out, Pan looked around her room.  It was so bare.  She rarely lived or slept here anymore.  Her chambers now were adjacent to King Trunks's, and no longer was she permitted to sleep in her parents' quarters regularly.

"Midwinter luck, Lady Pan," the servant girl said shyly.  

"You, too," Pan replied, tossing a silver coin to the girl.

Catching it quickly, the girl left hurriedly, no doubt to deliver more Midwinter gifts.  Pan dove into her stack, which was much larger than it had been the year before.  First off, a tiny jeweler's case.  Taking precious care in unwrapping it – she would use the paper next year to wrap her gifts in – Pan unveiled an amulet studded with scarlet rubies.  A fine gold chain held it up, and as Pan admired the many facets of light that passed through it, she caught eye of an insignia engraved on the back – her father's insignia.  The amulet had strong magical protections – Pan had no Gift, but she could see from the runes on it.  Placed by her father, it was likely to be very strong.  Setting it aside for tonight, she continued her journey.

Her mother had given her a wool cloak, perfect to last her through the years of training, for after that, she would have a cloak of the warriors.  Uncle Goten had given her some bruise balm, which he knew would be put to good use.  Now she had five gifts left, one of which she knew must have been from Trunks.

Taking a little black box, she uncovered a charm bracelet from Andrean.  Seeing as he was a healer, and possessed the healing Gift, she presumed the charms were for health and good fortune and immediately slipped it around her wrist.

The next gift was from the Lady Jenaesil.  A silver belt with crystal lining for her future weaponry.  She got up immediately to return it but on second thought, decided it would be impolite, so she sat back down and resolved to return it at a later time.

Three more to go, Pan took a deep breath.  Picking up one of the two leather wrapped gifts, Pan unwrapped a gleaming sword.  "Arda," she whispered.  The sword belonged to her Lord Trunks.  It had been his when he first mastered the sword.  It had been forged in the fires of Namek, and now that he was too big for it, he must have decided it was Pan's turn at it.  

Pan picked up a paper wrapped present with sturdy, well-spaced handwriting addressing it to her.  Unwrapping it gingerly, Pan uncovered a leather-bound diary with a quill.  Pan smiled inwardly, only few knew of her passion for expressing her thoughts, and only one out of those few could have put two and two together and gotten her this book.  She was now undoubtly grateful to her friend and year mate, Blaze.

Her last package was wrapped in leather and a leather thong bound the wrapping.  It bore no card, no greetings, or sign of whom it might be from.  The anonymous gift had a mysterious aura around it, as if she should know, but couldn't remember.  Smiling delightedly at this unexpected surprise, Pan tried to untie the thong with unnatural speed.  The speed, or lack thereof, resulted in a large tangle of knots.  Pan sighed and attempted to undo the isolated knot she encountered near the end of the thong.

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Pan was in a state of bordering hysteria and madness when Trunks found her.  Knots were now in her hair as well.  Trunks took one look at her and burst into laughter.  

His trainee replied with a scowl and rude gesture.  Then she crossed her arms, clearly disgruntled, and demanded, "Well, aren't you supposed to help?"

Kneeling beside her, Trunks calmly smoothed out her hair with the brush as she worked steadily on untying all the knots in the thong.  Trunks smiled wryly to himself.  Who would think that the King of the Saiya-jins, the mightiest race of all, was here, on Longnight, brushing out a teenager's hair?  He also recognized the wrapping style of the leather which Pan held in her hands.  There could be only one person who would devote so much time and energy into wrapping… not to mention the magic, however little, that one person used to conjure the spell of knots.  He himself had just finished wrestling with his and had come to see how Pan was faring with hers… and to gloat.

"Help, please?" Pan pouted.  She had learned this trick worked on Trunks.  

He sighed and took it from her.  "I undid mine way faster."

"Does that mean you know who it's from?" Pan asked eagerly.

"Yes…."  The package he held was light in his hands, unusually light for a package this size.  "Before you ask, no, I will not tell you who it is."

"Oh, fine," Pan replied, sticking out her tongue, and slipping back into bed.  She had yet to change out of her night shift.  Her shift was rumpled; her comforter was disheveled; her eyes were clouded with sleep; the only part of her that looked kempt was her hair, which he had taken the time to brush.

Half an hour later, Pan lay asleep on her pillows, and Trunks finally finished.  Shaking his trainee awake, he showed her the leather thong.  He had yet taken off the leather wrapping.  The mystery and gift was not for him to unveil.

"Thank you," she said, taking the package from him.  Slowly, carefully, unwrapping it, her fingers maneuvered around deftly.  Suddenly her fingers tightened around the end of the package.  Trunks recognized that hold.  He had shown it to her yesterday morn, when he was showing her the proper way to hold a kris.  Who would give her a kris?  Who would know she had just learned to master the kris?

Pan felt as puzzled as Trunks as her hands subconsciously knew what the present was.  Her fingers remaining around the hilt, she unwrapped the blade.  It was not a normal blade.  The designs clearly marked it as Enerial-forged.  The bright light reflecting off of the silver blade made her squint.  She looked away – rather, she looked down.  Careful as not to drop it, she unwrapped the hilt of the kris.  The midnight black hilt matched the hilt of Arda, but it was quite obvious to the naked eye the difference between them.  "It's beautiful," she breathed, her eyes gleaming.  The kris had become her favorite after just one practice – perhaps that was partially due to the fact that she as more than a natural at it.  "Have you any idea whose this is?"

Trunks had more than an idea.  He held out his hand, and Pan dropped it into his hand.  At the base of the hilt, Trunks looked very closely.  Engraved there, in the Enerial language, was the name of the owner, or previous owner in this case.  _Naethegaelyn Saynarette._  "Look at the base, my trainee," he said, handing it back to her.

Pan's eyes bulged and then she started to get up.  "Excuse me, my Lord, I must go return this.  He surely did not mean to give this to me."

Trunks gripped her forearm as she went past him.  "Pan, Enerials don't just give things out.  The only people to which they give gifts are those they love, and when they give out gifts, they expect you to treat their gifts with as much love as they did before you.  Now, I've already tried to return my gifts… and they're a bit preoccupied and probably will be for the entire day, so I suggest you either keep the gifts or wait."

"But, my Lord!"  Pan took out the belt she had unwrapped from Jenaesil.  "Lady Jenaesil gave this to me… surely, you do not expect me to keep it!"

"I do.  They are Enerial royalties, Pan.  They give these away because they love you… or like you enough to give them to you.  They don't need them anymore, and they can always get replacements.  They're not exactly the poorest of the poor.  Now, I will tell you this.  Naeon's favorite weapon is the kris… or so Jenaesil told me.  He must've liked you enough to give it to you."

Pan picked up her old practice sword, which was still too big for her, and hastily wrapped it in the leather she had unwrapped from Trunks's present.  

"What're you doing?"

"I must go deliver one last present," Pan said, going into her changing room.  Reemerging a few minutes later dressed as a proper young lady would be, she picked up the wrapped sword.  "I'll be back.  Father and Mother should be awake now."

Trunks watched as Pan left the room.  Time to face the music and see if Gohan would allow him to stay….

**End Chapter XI**

**A/N: **Aite, I missed an update last week due to finals.  They're over on Monday, and I found the time to post this!  ^_^"  I just wanted an excuse for not studying!  Hope you enjoyed!

Has anyone ever read Mercedes Lackey's Heralds of Valdemar series?  If so, can you identify which line I took from the second book?  I'll dedicate the next chapter to you if you can do it!

Oh, and anyone want to be on my e-mailing list?  For updates that is… strictly updates.

As always… **_REVIEW_**!


	12. Chapter XII

**"Rebels of the Revolution"**

**By Akira**

**Disclaimer:**  Vegeta-sei, Gohan, Goten, Videl, Pan, and Trunks are dutifully Akira Toriyama's.  The first line of the summary belongs to Peter Jackson of the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy (Boromir in The Lord of the Rings: the Fellowship of the Ring at the Council of Elrond).  Midwinter comes from several different fantasy books I've read.  Lastly, there is mention of Enerials and Enerial forged weapons in this chapter.  Both belong solely to my friend, Natalie, who has granted me permission to use the Enerials for my own purposes.

**Summary: **"Saiyans have no king; Saiyans need no king." The heir to the throne returned long from exile – a choice he made long ago. He took the throne, and within months, rumors of a rebellion emerged. The entire planet turned against him… all except one girl.

**Thanks **go out to… chibigoten124/SSJ3MysticPan and Videl17… for reviewing!  

**Chapter XII**

"Lord Gohan, Lady Videl, I have come to request my sharing the evening with you and your family," Trunks murmured, bowing very low.

Gohan opened his voice, about to reject, when Videl all but silenced him with one look.  "You may stay," Gohan replied in a disgruntled voice.

"Our King is always welcome in our home," Videl said courteously, curtseying.

"Thank you, my lord and lady," Trunks replied smoothly.  Now he had other matters to attend to.  "I must take my leave.  I'll be back ere nightfall."

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

"Exchange program, Andrean?" Trunks asked, confusion and wonder shining in his azure eyes.

"Yes, my king.  I was wondering if you would be so nice as to switch trainees with me.  It would be only an experiment of some kind," Andrean replied, his eyes cast down as his foot shuffled nervously against the floor.

"An experiment?  Andrean, I would hope by now that you know better than to experiment with the lives of these young ones who serve under us.  This is the beginning and foundation of their **_lives_**.  Surely, they would not want us to toy around with them."

"My King, that's not what I meant," Andrean answered.

"Then what did you mean?"

Andrean stopped the shuffling and met Trunks's eyes with an air of defiance.  It seemed as if he was trying to prove something, though Trunks could not identify what.  "Blaze – my trainee – has been yearning to try and do the weapon pattern dances as Pan can.  It is not my wish to defy his greatest wish, especially one that might save his life in battle one day.  My King, please consider this.  I am willing – more than willing – to help Pan in every way I can.  I realize you are not used to commanding large groups at once, and I have more than enough experience from commanding squadrons and regiments in the Elite.  She was a born leader, my King, and you must realize that I want to work for the good of both our trainees."  Andrean's eyes suddenly looked out the window almost wistfully.  His speech was over; he waited slowly for Trunks's reply.

"Why?  What causes you to do this?  Most trainers care not for the happiness and wishes of his trainee."

"Because I was put into that position before.  My trainer cared for me, and I owe it to him to do the same for Blaze."

Trunks stayed silent as thoughts whirled in his head.  "Very well.  The week after Midwinter, Andrean."

"Thank you, my King." 

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

"An exchange program, my lord?" Pan murmured.

"Yes.  It's just as well for I was wondering how to fine tone your leadership skills."

"Many thanks, my lord, for your concern with my well being.  Shall we make our way towards dinner?"

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

After dinner, Pan escorted Trunks back to his room then proceeded to run back to her family's chambers.  Running around the last corner, a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a little niche in the wall.  Instinct told Pan to unsheathe her new kris.  Before she realized who it was, the blade of the kris had left a narrow trail of blood across the person's cheek.  Her wrist now freed as she had caught her assaulter in the element of surprise, she turned to face him and gasped.

"Blaze?"  A weak nod confirmed her suspicions.  "What in the blazes are you doing?!" Pan all but screamed.

A hand went up to the trail of blood as Blaze asked her, "Have you heard the news yet?!"

"If you're talking about the exchange program, yes, I have.  My Lord told me this evening," Pan replied evenly, her worry and concern for his cheek slowly ebbing away as she saw green fire shimmering against his palm.

"Isn't it wonderful?"  Blaze touched his cheek with a fingertip as Pan noted with envy how the skin neatly formed back together.  "I'll get to serve under the King!"

"Oh, it's magnificent!  I won't get to see my Lord for a fortnight, what more could I ask for?  I'm only trying to finish my training early!" Pan remarked wryly.  She wasn't trying to put a damper on Blaze's excitement, but Trunks was one of the closest friends she had had in years and it wasn't exactly thrilling to know she had to spend a fortnight without him.  Andrean was nice enough… but he was just a friend, more of a family friend than her personal one.  He looked out for her… but in a way she suspected her uncle had ordered him to.

Blaze's face became crestfallen.  "If you really don't want to, I'll tell Andrean that you wish not to."

Pan noted to herself harshly that she had forgotten how easily Blaze became upset.  It came from being a bastard child of a streetwalker, who had thrown him out when he was but a mere babe.  He had then been taken in by foster guardians, who had beat him.  It wasn't a pleasant past.  He had been rotating foster guardians due the fright that each one got when his Gift, uncontrolled, produced weird things.  It had been this way until he was old enough to apply for training to serve Vegeta-sei.  As one of Pan's older year mates, he had become a close confidant and advisor.  "No, it's alright.  Really," she tried convincingly as she caught the look in his eyes.  

"Pan, I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate you understanding this.  I see you out on the field every morning, doing a weapons dance that I know must be graceful but deadly, and I get indescribably jealous.  It's not a very Warrior-like feeling, but I just yearn to learn how to do that."

"As you will, Blaze," Pan said.  Silence ensued between them like an uncomfortable tension.  Quickly Pan found herself in a bear-like hug then realeased just as quick.  

"Have a good Longnight with your parents."

"Thank you," Pan replied, about to say 'you, too' instead, but she caught herself in time.  "My Lord is in his chambers right now, if you care to join him," she said softly as Blaze rounded the corner.

Pan took her time walking down the hall.  When she finally did reach the door, she pushed it opened gently, easing into view of her parents in front of the hearth, enjoying their time together as they waited for her.  "Mama?  Father?" she whispered hesitantly.  

"Oh, Panny," her mother crushed her into her arms.  "I've missed you so much, little girlie.  You're always away."

Gohan laid a hand on Videl's shoulder.  Videl soon released Pan out of the hug.  "It's been a long time since we've all sat before the hearth.  Let us do so now, as a family."

Pan followed her parents to sit before the hearth as a family, to enjoy each other's presence throughout the night.  Looking around, Pan was astonished to see that there were only few changes in the months she had left.  Her mother used to alter the decorations according to season.  Looking over at her mother, Pan noted that she didn't look too well.  After a few moments of silence, Gohan spoke.

"Daughter, are you now so learned in a warrior's heartlessness to give your father a hug on Longnight?"

Brushing away tears that she didn't know she had, she welcomed her father's embrace.  Only in her father's arms did she feel safe again.  Though she sometimes couldn't fathom the reason for his actions, she was quite content to feel as if she were a little girl again, wanting to be protected by her father.  It had been a long time since she was home.

**End Chapter XII**

**A/N: **Summer!  Ten blissful weeks of nothingness!  Perhaps I should work on this instead of sleeping all day….  Love ya lots!

Oh, and anyone want to be on my e-mailing list?  For updates that is… strictly updates.

As always… **_REVIEW_**!


	13. Chapter XIII

**"Rebels of the Revolution"**

**By Akira**

**Disclaimer:**  Vegeta-sei, Gohan, Goten, Videl, Pan, and Trunks are dutifully Akira Toriyama's.  The first line of the summary belongs to Peter Jackson of the Lord of the Rings movie trilogy (Boromir in The Lord of the Rings: the Fellowship of the Ring at the Council of Elrond).  Midwinter comes from several different fantasy books I've read.  Lastly, there is mention of Enerials and Enerial forged weapons in this chapter.  Both belong solely to my friend, Natalie, who has granted me permission to use the Enerials for my own purposes.

**Summary: **"Saiyans have no king; Saiyans need no king." The heir to the throne returned long from exile – a choice he made long ago. He took the throne, and within months, rumors of a rebellion emerged. The entire planet turned against him… all except one girl.

**Thanks **go out to… only one person this time:  Jezika… for reviewing!  

**Chapter XIII**

"The Enerials have announced their departure in a fortnight," Trunks informed his trainee as she packed.  It grieved him to see her go.  She had been his first friend on this wretched planet in which he was now called king.  

Pan smiled wanly.  "I suppose it's for the best.  After all, I assume Lady Jenaesil has her own kingdom to rule."

"Very well said and very true, but I shall miss them all the more.  They've been very supportive of mine taking the throne… which is a first since I've been here."  Trunks inwardly sighed.  They had been wonderful towards him… even improved his status in the eyes of the Council.  It showed them that he had a hand in foreign affairs.

"Mayhap they do not want to leave.  Duty calls."

"Mayhap."

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Trunks raised an eyebrow as Blaze unwrapped Pan's old training sword.  "I assume that was the gift she delivered last?"

Blaze blushed slightly, "Yes, my King."

"While you are under my training, Blaze, you are serving under me as a warrior, not me as King.  I do not wish to be called King during training, understand?  Now which weapon do you wish to start with?"

"Yes, my Lord.  The sword," Blaze replied.

"Get your sword, clean up, and meet me in the training field in half an hour."

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

"Want to know something funny, Pan?" Andrean asked unexpectedly from his position leaning against the doorway between their adjoining rooms.

"Hm?"  Pan held no formalities with the assistant commander of the Elite.  He had been around and had been her friend for so long that protocol did not require her to anymore.

"I was to be your intended.  Your father asked me."

Pan was stunned.  She knew about tradition, of course, and tradition told her that the father always picked the daughter's husband.  She just never expected it to be the same with her.  Her father knew she picked the warrior path, was painfully aware of it, in fact, but yet he dared to find her a husband at the same time?  When was he going to learn that she did not want to be a lady?

Andrean walked over and tilted up Pan's head with gentle fingers.  He said in a soft voice, "I refused.  I knew that you wanted to be a warrior.  I also knew that my first duty is to Vegeta-sei and the good of its inhabitants.  I don't want that duty to bar me from my duty to my family.  Love and marriage will wait for me yet."

Pan looked up at Andrean.  He was twenty-five… pretty damn young for an assistant commander of the greatest military force in the universe.  How was it that every time she got near him, she felt inferior and brainless?  He always said the right things at the right times.  "Thank you," she whispered.

He nodded and left the room.  Pan finished unpacking as thoughts whirled like a typhoon around her head.  This was very much like her father, who gave into her every whim when she was around… but when she wasn't….  She loved her father dearly, as she plainly showed last night, but he still got on her nerves at times.  Pan brushed the dust off her trainee uniform and walked over to the door.

Opening it a tiny crack, she called softly, "Andrean?"

"We're to go to the market today.  I need to show you how to manage supplies for large amounts of people."  Andrean turned towards her, scarlet cloak snugly around his shoulders and white band around his head.  "Let's hurry.  I want to be back before nightfall."

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

It was mid-morning before Blaze allowed himself to take a break.  His sweat-covered face showed lines of fatigue not present before.  After taking gulps of Saniel water from the skin, his tired muscles ceased their incessant screaming and lessened it to a dull roar.  Saniel water was the purest of all waters, brought to Vegeta-sei by no other than the Enerials.  It was also filled with a tiny bit of mystical energy and was often used to help fighters recover.  Now that he had gulped down half of the skin selfishly, Blaze tried his voice.  "M-my Lord, w-why d-doesn't it w-work?  W-why c-can't I d-do p-patterns?"

Trunks thought out his answer, allowing a moment of rest as he sat himself down upon the ground.  "Well, Blaze, there are two kinds of people," he started, waiting for Blaze's understanding nod before continuing.  "The first kind is naturals.  Weaponry and patterns just come easier to them than to the rest of us… sometimes easy to the extent of unnaturally.  Pan is one of those.  She works for a few days on a weapon, at the most, two weeks and masters it.  Me, I belong to the other group – this group is not naturals.  They are just born fighters.  Not great swordsmen or archers."

Blaze had regained his breath somewhat now and tried to speak without gasping or stuttering.  "But, my Lord, you do the patterns like a natural."

Trunks smiled.  "There is always, of course, an exception.  You can **_make_** yourself a natural.  With enough practice and determination, one can do that.  You just need the passion… which you obviously have."

Blaze sighed and picked up his sword once more.  Trunks looked up and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Well, I only have a fortnight, my Lord.  If I wish to master the sword by then, I think I shall have to work every minute."

**End Chapter XIII**

**A/N: **

As always… **_REVIEW_**!


End file.
